
STORIES FROM 

CHAUCER 
THE CANTERBURY TALES 



Stories from Chaucer 

I' 

The Canterbury Tales 




<^5> 



Edited by W. T. STEAD 



Illustrated by EDITH EWEN 



THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
PHILADELPHIA : : : : : MCMVIII 



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LlOR^Ry otOONGRESS.J 
I wu GoDtes rtecuvae 



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Copyright 1908 by The Penn Publishing Company 



Chaucer 



PREFACE 



Geoffrey Chaucer was an English poet who lived in the 
fourteenth century. For nearly five hundred years he has min- 
istered to the mirth and gladness of the English-speaking 
world. In the Canterbury Tales the fourteenth century rises 
from the grave, so to speak ; and Chaucer's pilgrims — a motley 
band — are almost the only men of his time who live and breathe 
immortalized by the genius of the poet. Never again, we fear, 
will Merrie England see the friendly social gathering of knight 
and squire, of stately dame and low-born cook, of merchant, 
miller, and friar, spending the evening together in listening to 
such tales as these. Some of them, no doubt, were coarse 
enough to make one wonder how they could be told in the 
hearing of ladies and of priests. 

Chaucer's Tales may be regarded as the first and most 
popular of the short stories that have won for themselves so 
prominent a place in literature. His Canterbury Tales are the 
first miscellany of poetry and fiction in our tongue that has 
achieved world-wide popularity. Their age in itself is no 
small addition to their charm. These stories, which are now 
being scattered broadcast over the English-speaking world, 
were familiar to the men who fought the Wars of the Roses. 
They cheered the youth of the Reformers, they were the fav- 
orite reading of the heroes of the Elizabethan age ; and down 
to our own time these short stories in verse have been the 
solace and the amusement of successive generations of our 
race. 



THE CANTERBURY TALES 

SIMPLY TOLD FOR CHILDREN 



Many years ago it was a common thing for men and 
women to go on pilgrimages. If they had been sick, they jour- 
neyed to the shrine of a favorite saint to givie thanks for their 
recovery ; if they wished to receive some blessing, they asked 
the same saint to intercede on their behalf, that it might be 
granted them. And perhaps the time of year when it was most 
usual to undertake these pious journeys was in the spring, 
when the birds were singing, and the April showers had made 
the roads pleasant to walk upon, after the dust of March. 

In the reign of Richard II. it happened that a poet, called 
Geoffrey Chaucer, started on a pilgrimage to the shrine of 
Thomas a Becket at Canterbury, and before he began his jour- 
ney, he put up for the night in an inn in Southwark, in the 
south of London. The inn was called the "Tabard.'* There 
were assembled in the same inn a number of other travelers 
of all classes of life, twenty-nine of them, Who were bound on 
the same religious duty. 

The host, as they called the landlord of the inn, was a 
merry fellow, and when he saw this goodly assembly rnet to- 
gether, a brilliant idea seized him, which he lost no time in 
putting before the company. He said, they were all going on 
a long and dangerous journey (for traveling in those days was 
a serious business, I can tell you), and would it not be well to 
beguile the weary hours by entertaining each other. Every one 
must know and be able to tell at least one good story, and he 
proposed that each should take it in turn to provide amuse- 
ment for the others, by telling, as best he could, some history, 
true or otherwise. Let them draw lots, said he, to decide who 
should begin, and then each in turn do his best, and when all 



4 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 

the stories were told, he who had done best should be enter- 
tained at supper by the others. The host himself offered to 
accompany them, to show them the road, and said he would 
be their leader, and whoever refused to obey his orders should 
be obliged to pay for entertainment for the rest. This pro- 
posal was agreed to by them all, and they went to bed, intend- 
ing to start in the morning as soon as the sun rose. 

Before I go any farther I will tell you who the company 
were, and describe them to you as well as I can. 

First, there was a knight, a noble gentleman, who from 
his earliest youth had loved chivalry, truth, honor, liberty, 
and courtesy. He had been in many wars in different coun- 
tries, and was renowned for his valour. But he was modest 
and simple in his manners, and never spoke harshly to any one. 
Chaucer calls him a 'Very perfect gentle knight." He had just 
returned from a voyage, and was going to the shrine at Can- 
terbury to return thanks for his preservation from so many 
dangers. 

With him was his son, a young squire, about twenty years 
of age, tall, strong, and handsome. He had already begun to 
follow in his father's footsteps, and had been on some short 
fighting expeditions in France, where he had done his best to 
acquit himself bravely, that he might win the favor of the 
lady he loved. He could ride well, and also write and sing 
songs, draw and dance. And with all this he was modest and 
courteous in his behavior, as all gentlemen should be. 

The knight brought with him one servant, called a yeo- 
man. He was dressed in green, and carried a mighty bow and 
arrows, besides a sword and buckler, dagger and horn. 

Another pilgrim was a nun, a prioress, who was called 
Madame Eglantine. She had a sweet, simple, frank face, and 
was a clever woman. She could sing very sweetly, and speak 
French, such as was taught at Stratford, near London, for 
she knew nothing of Parisian French, so no doubt her accent 
was not very good. Chaucer describes at great length her 
pretty manners at table, how daintily and nicely she behaved 
in eating; for I am sorry to tell you that it was no unusual 
thing at that time to see people, and gentle people too, eating 
their food in a manner that would shock us now. The prioress 
was so kind-hearted and pitiful that she would weep if a mouse 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 5 

were caught in a trap, or if any one should beat her little pet 
dogs. She was accompanied by another nun, and three priests 
attended them. 

Then there was a monk, fat and jolly, who loved hunting, 
and did not think it was either right or pleasant for a religious 
man to be always shut up in a cloister. He had good horses, 
and knew how to ride them, and he kept greyhounds for 
coursing after the hares. His robe was bordered with grey 
fur, and he had a curious gold pin to fasten his hood. His 
head was bald and shining, and his whole appearance showed 
that he loved good living and pleasant company. A monk, as 
no doubt you all know, was a priest who lived in a monastery, 
with others like himself. This monk was the head or lord of 
his house, and had other monks under him, who were bound to 
obey him. 

There was also a friar, whose name was Hubert. A friar 
was a priest who wandered about the country, having no set- 
tled home or means of living, but depending for his bread on 
the charity of the people living in the towns and villages he 
visited, whom he would repay by giving consolation to the 
sick and dying, marrying their young people, and baptizing 
their babies. The friar I am telling you about was a very en- 
gaging man, and much beloved by every one ; possibly this was 
because he was very lenient to their faults, and did not order 
them to do hard penances or punishments. 

Then there was a merchant, with a forked beard, and a 
high Flanders hat. He was a good practical man of business, 
and his name I cannot tell you. 

Next came a clerk from Oxford, riding on a very thin, half- 
starved-looking horse. This clerk looked no better fed than 
his horse, for his cheeks were hollow and his clothes thread- 
bare ; for although he hoped to be a priest some day, he had 
not as yet had a living given to him, and had to depend for his 
daily bread and the cost of his education on the bounty of his 
friends. But he loved learning more than rich books, or furni- 
ture, or jewels. He was very silent and thoughtful. 

Another pilgrim was a law sergeant, very grave and wise 
in appearance, who was noted for skill in his profession ; and 
although he was a very busy man, yet he could find time to 
fulfil the pious duty of visiting the shrine at Canterbury. 



JS STORIES FROM CHAUCER 

Another was a franklin ; that is to say, he was a rich coun- 
try gentleman, father of a family. This one was a ruddy old 
gentleman with white hair, fond of comfortable living. He 
was renowned for his hospitality, and always welcomed any 
traveler at his well-spread board. He had been sheriff for his 
county, and was much respected. 

Others were a haberdasher or draper, a carpenter, a 
weaver, a dyer, and another tradesman, who all belonged to the 
same guild, and therefore wore the same costume. Guilds 
were the societies in which the tradespeople of the Middle 
Ages banded themselves together in order to support and help 
each other, as, united, they might be able to put a stop to 
grievances, which they could not fight against single-handed. 
These shopkeeper pilgrims were well-to-do townspeople, who 
could well afford to spare the time to go on a pilgrimage. 

There was also a sailor, who came from the west country, 
probably Dartmouth. He was on horseback, but, like all 
sailors, did not ride very well. He was brown and weather- 
beaten, and a jolly fellow, who knew every seaport from Scot- 
land to Finisterre. 

Next came a doctor, who would be able to physic his com- 
panions, should any be taken ill on the journey. 

Then there was an old lady from Bath, called the Wife of 
Bath. She was very much a wife, as Chaucer tells us she had 
had five husbands. She was, however, a worthy woman, and 
skillful in cloth-making, and had also been a great traveler, 
having visited Jerusalem three times, as well as Rome, Co- 
logne, and Boulogne. 

Chaucer next mentions a poor town parson ; that is to say, 
he was poor in worldly goods, but rich in mind and noble quali- 
ties. He was kind and hard-working, patient in trouble, and 
ever ready ^ share the little he had with the needy. His par- 
ish was large, and he had no horse, but did not let either thun- 
der or rain keep him from visiting the sick and unfortunate in 
his flock, however far away they might live. He lived an up- 
right life himself, and taught more by example than precept. 
But although he was so good and holy himself, he did not de- 
spise the wicked, but rather tried to lead them gently to alter 
their ways, by his good example and loving teaching. With 
him was his brother, a ploughman, in a smock-frock. He was 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 7 

a good, honest fellow, and there is nothing further to tell you 
about him. 

Another jolly fellow was a miller, big and fat, with a 
broad, ugly face and a red beard. He wore a white coat and a 
blue hood, and had a bagpipe which he blew before the others 
to lead them out of town. 

Another was called a reeve. He was a thin, bad-tempered 
man, with a shaven face and close-cropped head. He had long 
legs like sticks, and rode upon a grey horse whose name was 
"Scot." He was called Oswald, and he lived in Norfolk. 

Then there came a sumpner, or summoner. He summoned 
people who were in debt, or had been guilty of any misde- 
meanor, to appear at court. He had a round, red, surly face, 
and frowned so much that little children would run away from 
him. He had adorned his head with a garland, and carried a 
cake to serve as a shield, which seems very funny. 

A pardoner was there, too. He carried about with him 
relics of the saints, and when people paid him a certain sum of 
money he allowed them to touch these relics, which he pro- 
fessed were able to pardon their sins. Of course we know bet- 
ter than that, and are not so foolish as to believe that to touch 
the bones of a holy man, long dead, could take away sin ; but 
at the time of which I am speaking the country people were 
sadly ignorant and superstitious. 

Such were the pilgrims who were on their way to Canter- 
bury, and I must mention, also, the poet, Geoffrey Chaucer, 
who tells u^ all about them, and the worthy landlord of the 
inn who accompanied them as their leader. 

Very early the next morning, when the day was dawning, 
the merry company set forth on their journey, and as soon as 
they had got a little way out of the town the host stopped, 
and suggested that they should draw lots, and whoever drew 
the shortest should begin to entertain the others with a story. 
This was done, and it happened that the lot fell to the knight, 
who, like the true gentleman that he was, made no demur, 
but told at once the following story: 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




EMILY IN THE PALACE GARDEN 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



THE KNIGHT'S TALE. 

There were, once upon a time, two knights, called Pala- 
mon and Arcite, who had been taken prisoners by Duke The- 
seus, of Athens, and were confined in a tower which over- 
looked the palace garden. 

One morning, as Palamon was looking out of his window 
he saw a beautiful maiden walking there, who was the Duke's 
sister-in-law, Emily. She had long yellow hair, which hung 
down in a plait more than a yard long, and she was walking 
up and down singing, and gathering flowers. She was so 
lovely that Palamon fell deeply in love with her, and cried 
out loudly with surprise, which attracted Arcite's attention. 
Ke therefore looked out of the window also, and when he 
saw the maiden fell in love with her, just as his companion 
had done. Then these knights, who had always loved each 
other as brothers, began to quarrel about the lady, until Ar- 
cite sensibly said that as they were both shut up in prison, 
and not likely ever even to speak to Emily, it was absurd 
to dispute over what neither of them could have. So^ they 
made up their disagreement, although each still felt secretly 
jealous of the other. 

Some time after this an old friend of the Duke's came to 
pay him a visit, and as he had known Arcite since he was a 
child, when he heard he was a prisoner in the tower, he per- 
suaded Theseus to set him free. The Duke therefore sent to 
Arcite to tell him he might go wherever he chose, on condi- 
tion that he never returned to Athens ; if he did so, and 
should be again taken prisoner, then he would be condemned 
to lose his head. Arcite, instead of being glad that he was 
free, wept and bemoaned himself more than ever, because 
he would be parted from his beloved Emily, and thought 
Palamon's lot was better than his own, as he might still gaze 
upon her from the window. Palamon, however, when left 
behind all alone, envied Arcite with all his heart, thinking 



10 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




ARCITE'S DREAM 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 11 

that he might gather an army together, make war on the 
Duke, and carry off Emily by force. 

Arcite went back to his native place, but was so filled 

Vith grief that he could neither eat nor sleep, and after some 

time grew pale and thin. One night, when he had fallen into 

a restless doze, after hours of weary tossing about, the god 

^ Mercury appeared to him in a dream, and told him to go 

'back to Athens, and that his troubles would soon be at an 

end. On waking, he looked at himself in a mirror, and found 

that he was so much changed by all he had suffered that 

no one would know him. Dressing himself as a poor page, 

he returned to Duke Theseus' court, and offered himself to 

the chamberlain as a servant. He was fortunate enough to 

be engaged as page to Emily herself, and served her with so 

much devotion that he was soon beloved by all. Although 

in his humble position he dared not speak to Emily of love, 

he was happy in being near her, and able to see her every day. 

Meanwhile, poor Palamon was still in prison; but, some 
time after this, in the month of May, he managed to escape, 
with the help of one of the jailers, and fled to a wood, where 
he hid himself among some bushes. 

On that very morning Arcite happened to come to the 
wood also, to gather green branches for the May garlands, 
and when he had collected enough he sat down close to the 
grove where Palamon lay hidden. He then began to sigh 
and complain of the position in which he found himself — he, 
a noble knight, Arcite, to be in a servant's position, and still 
as far from winning the love of the lady Emily as ever, 
though he was bearing so much for her sake. On hearing 
this, Palamon could contain himself no longer, but, spring- 
ing from his hiding-place, began to reproach Arcite for de- 
ceiving the Duke and coming back to Athens. A quarrel 
ensued which became so violent that at last they decided 
that they must fight; and as Palamon had no weapons, Ar- 
cite went back to the palace, returning with armor and 
swords for them both. Then a fierce combat began, in which 
probably one or both of them would have been killed had 
they not been interrupted. 

The Duke, who was out on a hunting expedition with his 



12 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




wife, his sister, and many lords and ladies, happened to ride 
up to the spot where the knights were fighting", and com- 
manded them to stop at once, and tell him what their quarrel 
was about. Palamon, humbly acknowledging that each of 
them deserved to die, confessed everything; how both he and 
Arcite had loved the lady Emily so dearly that they would 
brave anything in order to be near her. When the Duchess 
heard this romantic tale, she and all the ladies were full of 
compassion, and implored Duke Theseus to spare their lives. 
He graciously consented, and, moreover, proposed to give 
Emily to one of them as his wife. She could not wed them 
both, therefore the matter should be decided by a tournament, 
to take place in a year's time. Each of the knights should 
bring a hundred others with him to join in a mock fight, and 
whichever won the victory should receive Emily's hand in 
marriage. To this Palamon and Arcite joyfully consented, 
and went away to collect their friends together to fight for 
them. 

When the appointed day arrived, the Duchess, Emily, 
and all the ladies of the court took their places on a grand- 
stand, hung with cloth of gold, to watch the tournament. It 
was a gorgeous sight, the handsome knights clad in glitter- 
ing armor, the flying pennons and flashing swords. A long 
conflict took place, and after much struggling for the victory, 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



13 




THE DEATH OF ARCITE 



14 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 

the unfortunate Palamon was at last overcome and taken 
prisoner. Thereupon the Duke proclaimed that Arcite was 
the conqueror, and should have Emily, whom he had fairly 
won. He, full of joy, was riding gaily up to his bride when 
his horse stumbled and pitched him forward on to the pom- 
mel of his saddle. It pierced through the joints of his 
armor, and made a fearful wound in his breast. He was 
picked up unconscious and borne to the palace, where his 
wound was dressed and every care was bestowed upon him. 
Nothing, however, could save his life ; and when he knew 
this, he sent for his lady-love, the beautiful Emliy, and his 
old friend Palamon. 

Emily, weeping, clasped him for the first time in her gen- 
tle arms, and at last Arcite had won the dearest wish of his 
heart. With many tender words he told her he must die and 
leave her, and then telling her what a brave, noble knight 
Palamon was, and how dearly he loved her, asked her not to 
forget him if she should ever become a wife. After this his 
speech failed, he could say no more, but, with Emily's name 
on his lips, passed away. He was borne to the grave with 
due honor, and for many a long day Emily wept for her lost 
lover, and refused to be comforted. Palamon, too, forgot his 
jealousy, and mourned for his friend with all his heart. 

At length there came a day when Duke Theseus, send- 
ing for Palamon and Emily, told them the time for mourning 
was over, and he thought now that his sister should wed 
Palamon, who had loved her so long and truly. Emily 
bowed her head in assent, and Palamon, happy at last, plac- 
ing a ring upon her finger, promised to make her a faithful, 
loving husband. Accordingly, they were married, and passed 
the rest of their days in great happiness, for Emily in time 
came to love her husband as dearly as she had done the lost 
Arcite. 




EMILY AND PALAMON 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




THE KNIGHT'S OFFENCE 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



B.7 



THE WIFE OF BATH'S TALE. 

Once upon a time, in the reign of good King Arthur, a 
knight, riding along the riverside, saw a maiden walking by 
herself. As she was very pretty, the knight stole a kiss from 
her, and King Arthur, being the soul of chivalry and honor, 
punished all such offences with death. Therefore, when the 




maiden complained of the way in which she had been treated, 
the unfortunate knight was tried and condemned to lose his 
head. He was young and handsome, so the Queen felt very 
sorry for him, and after much pleading from her, the King 
delivered the knight into her hands, to treat in whatever man- 
ner she chose. The Queen thanked her husband with all her 



18 



STORIES EROM CHAUCER 




STORIES FROM CHAUCER 19 

heart, and after thinking for a short time, told the knight what 
she had decided. 

'1 will grant you your life," she said, "if you can tell me 
what it is that women most desire,and to find it out you 
may have a year and a day's grace ; if, then, you still have not 
learned the answer, you must die." 

So the knight went forth into the world, seeking the an- 
swer to this riddle, which he found indeed a puzzling one. 
He asked all whom he met what it was, in their opinion ; but 
this did not help him much, for he found hardly any two peo- 
ple who gave him the same answer. Some said women loved 
riches, some rank and high estate, some pleasure and gaiety, 
some fine clothes. Some said women's hearts might best be 
won with flattery and praises; and, again, others said that 
their chief delight was in being free and able to have their 
own way. The poor knight therefore grew quite bewildered 
with all these different suggestions, and at last was obliged 
to turn homeward again without having discovered anything. 

But as he was riding through a forest, he saw a number 
of ladies, four-and-twenty or more, dancing in a ring in a 
little open space in the wood. He imagined that they were 
fairies, so drew near, hoping that they could tell him what 
he wished to know. But before he got up to them they van- 
ished away, and the only living creature he could see was an 
ugly old woman, like a witch, sitting on the grass. 

She got up when she saw him, and asked him if he were 
in any difficulty to tell her what it was, as often old people 
were able to give good advice. Then said the knight, "My 
good mother, I must lose my life unless I can tell what it is 
that women love best. If you could tell me that, I would 
pay you well for the information." 

"Promise to grant me the next request I make of you," 
said the witch, "and I will tell you what you want to know." 

"I promise," replied the knight. 

She then whispered something in his ear, and afterwards 
accompanied him to the court, where the Queen and all the 
ladies were assembled together to hear what answer he would 
give. On being asked if he could answer the Queen's ques- 
tion, the knight replied without any hesitation that what 



20 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



! 



women liked best was to have the upper hand in their own 
homes, both over their husbands and the rest of their house- 
holds. All the ladies of the court, from the Queen herself 
downwards, were silent, for they were quite unable to con- 
tradict what the knight said, and it was decided that he had 
answered truly, and therefore his life should be spared. Upon 
this the old witch started up, and claimed from the knight, 
according to his promise, that he should make her his wife. 




"Alas! and well-a-way!" said he; "I acknowledge that 
I did make this promise, but for heaven's sake ask of me 
something else ; take all my wealth, but let me keep my free- 
dom." 

However, the old woman would not be denied ; she was 
determined to have the handsome knight for her husband, 
and in the end he was obliged to marry her, though sorely 
against his will. He made no secret of his unwillingness, but 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 2JJ 

loolced so cross and unhappy that the old woman began to 
chide him with great gentleness and wisdom. She said al- 
though she was so old and ugly, yet she loved him truly, and 
would do anything to give him pleasure; neither would she 
be unfaithful to her husband, as might be fairer, younger 
women. She ended by asking him which he would prefer, 
that she should be young and lovely, but at the same time 
bad-tempered and unfaithful, or old and ugly, but always kind 
and true, *'for," said she, "I can be whichever you wish." 

When the knight heard how wisely she could argue, he 
said: 

"Dear wife, you indeed know better than I do, therefore 
you choose for me, and I will abide by your decision." 

At this speech of the knight's the spell which had been 
cast over his wife was broken, and she was restored to her 
natural self, becoming a beautiful young girl. She explained 
•that she had been made to look old and ugly by a wicked 
enchanter, who said that she must remain so until she had 
wed a handsome knight, who would yield his own will to hers. 
Now the spell was broken, the knight clasped his lovely 
young wife in his arms, and they Uved happily for the rest 
of their lives. 



22 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




^isiMc of tkislOoduxit)fiil 

innocent. 
That for hire ahdpcn tsas 

dl thia orron, 
JO fctc])tn iDottr at a u;tllc 

13 went* 
/\nd cometh l^omt as sone 

CX3 cucrabcmau.'* 



in^|!ru»tn, 



GRISELDA 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 23 



THE CLERK'S TALE. 

There was once a certain marquis called Walter, young, 
strong, and handsome, and as he owned large estates, his 
people wished him to marry, that he might have a son to in- 
herit his land. 

Not far from the Marquis's palace was a village where 
poor people lived, and among them, almost the poorest, was 
a man called Janicola, who had a beautiful young daughter, 
Griselda by name. She was not only beautiful, but good and 
industrious also, and the Marquis had often noticed her as 
he rode through the village, and made up his mind that if he 
should ever wed, he would make her his wife. 

At nine o'clock one morning the Marquis put on royal 
apparel, and with a following of lords and ladies rode to the 
village. Griselda had gone early to fetch water at the well, 
and when she returned to the cottage, to her great astonish- 
ment the Marquis came forward and called her by name. 
She fell on her knees before him, and meekly waited to hear 
what he would say. He spoke gently to her, and asked her 
where her father was, so Griselda went to fetch him. Then 
Lord Walter took Janicola by the hand, saying that he had 
come to ask him to give him Griselda for his wife. The old 
man's astonishment can easily be imagined; he could hardly 
speak for surprise at first, but at last managed to say that 
his lord's wishes were as his own, and his only desire was to 
please him. The Marquis then said: 

"Griselda, your father consents that you shall be my wife, 
but before I marry you I must ask if you will be willing to 
give up your will to mine in everything, and whatever I 
demand of you to do it cheerfully and readily." 

Griselda replied that she was a poor maiden, quite un- 
worthy to become the wife of so great a Marquis, but if he 
wished really to wed her, she would be a true and obedient 
wife, and promise never to cross her lord's will. 



24 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




"That is enoug-h, my Griselda," said the Marquis, and 
taking her by the hand, he led her out to the assembled lords 
and ladies, saying that this was his chosen wife, and they 
must honor and love her for the future as their liege lady. 

That she might arrive at the palace in suitable attire, the 
ladies were called upon to take her to her room, pull off her 
coarse clothing, and dress her in rich apparel, which the Mar- 
quis had ordered them to bring with them. Accordingly she 
was clad in bright silken raiment, her beautiful hair was 
combed and plaited, a crown set upon her head, and when 
so adorned, no princess could surpass her in loveliness. 

The Marquis had brought a ring with which to wed his 
wife, and after the ceremony she was put upon a snow-white 
horse, and taken to the palace, followed by crowds of rejoic- 
ing people. 

The new Marchioness bore her unaccustomed honors so 
nobly, and had such sweet and gracious manners, that even 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



25 




s^fflBsassa 



GRISELDA AND HER DAUGHTER 



2"6 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 

the people who had seen her grow up began to forget her 
humble birth, and loved and looked up to her as the greatest 
lady in the land. After some time a daughter was born to 
Lord Walter and 'Griselda, and the cup of the mother's hap-' 
piness seemed full. 

Too full, indeed, to last; for I am sorry to tell you that ' 
Lord Walter was unhappily possessed of a gloomy, suspicious 
nature, and when his little daughter was only a few weeks' 
old he made up his mind to put Griselda to a cruel test to 
see if she were indeed as submissive as she had promised to 
be. He therefore went to his wife, and after reminding her 
of her lowly origin and promise to give up her will to his 
in all things, asked her if she were still willing to keep that 
promise. Griselda meekly replied that she was. And you 
would have thought that the Marquis would have been satis- 
fied with such a gentle answer; but not at all. He had not, 
indeed, the heart to tell his wife what he intended to do, but 
after he left her sent a servant to her, commanding her to 
give up her baby. Poor Griselda! this was a cruel trial for 
her; but after kissing and blessing her child, she gave her., 
up, believing that she was to be put to death. This, how- 
ever, was not the Marquis's intention ; he sent the little girl 
to Boulogne, and gave her into the charge of his sister, the 
Countess of Pavia, to whom he sent a message, asking her 
to bring up his child with gentleness and care, and to keep 
secret from every one who she was. After he had done this, 
the suspicious Marquis observed his wife carefully, expect- 
ing that she would be changed in her manner to him, but he 
could find no difiference in her at all ; she was still as cheer- 
ful and modest as ever, busy always with the loving care of 
himself and his household, nor did she even mention her baby, \ 
though no doubt she was always longing to have her little I 
one again. I 

Four years went by, and then a little son was bom to 
them, and great were the rejoicings in the land. When the - 
child was about two years old, his father again was seized 
with a cruel desire to try his patient wife still further. He 
went to her, therefore, saying: 

"Griselda, the people do not think it right that a child 

5 



d 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 27. 

descended from so humble a person as Janicola should in- 
herit the estate, so I must ask you to give him up, as you did 
his sister." 

Griselda replied that she agreed to whatever her lord 
commanded, and was ready at all times to do his will. The 
suspicious Marquis himself was surprised at the great pa- 
tience of his beautiful wife, and loved her all the more in his 
'heart, though he did not give up his cruel intentions. The 
same ugly servant, therefore, who had before taken away 
Griselda's daughter, came and carried off her little son, not 
indeed to put him to death, but to take him to Boulogne, to 
be under the care of his aunt. The Marquis knew how dearly 
his wife had loved her children, and watched her carefully 
to see if she showed any resentment to himself, but found her 
ever the same, loving and cheerful. 

Years went on, and the Marquis made up his mind to 
try his wife yet once again. His daughter was now twelve 
years old, and in those days a maiden of that age was thought 
old enough to be married. Lord Walter had many influen- 
tial friends, and he persuaded them to give him a document, 
purporting to come from the Pope, which allowed him to 
divorce his wife and marry another woman. He then sent 
a messenger to his sister, desiring her to send back his little 
son and daughter, but on no account to let them or any one 
else know who they were, but to say the maiden was to 
become the wife of the Marquis Walter. The damsel, ac- 
cordingly, arrayed in beautiful attire, adorned with jewels, 
with her little brother riding at her side, and a retinue of lords 
and ladies, set out for her father's estate. 

Meanwhile the Marquis went to his poor patient wife, 
saying: 

"Griselda, you have indeed pleased me well by your 
goodness, truth, and obedience, but men of my high estate 
are obliged to listen to the voice of their people, and are not 
able to do as they please. My subjects are crying out for me 
to take another wife, and the Pope has given his consent to 
it, so a high-born maiden is now on her way to take your 
place, and you must go back to your father's house." 

Griselda, though overcome with grief agreed, as usual, 



28 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




ARRIVAL OF THE STRANGERS 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 29 

to all that her cruel though beloved husband demanded, and, 

with many of her servants weeping after her, returned sadly 

J to her father's cottage, where she resumed her old busy life, 

P never complaining of the way in which she had been treated, 
or allowing her father to do so. 

The Earl of Pavia, meanwhile, arrived from Boulogne, 
bringing with him the supposed new Marchioness and her 

. brother, and when they drew near the Marquis sent a message 
to Griselda, desiring her presence at the castle. He wished 
her to prepare exerything suitably for the reception of his 
bride, and there was no one but herself whom he could trust 
to do it properly. Accordingly she cheerfully began her 
customary household duties, ordering and arranging all things 
in the best possible way, and going about in her coarse, com- 
mon clothing as willingly as she had done when she was the 
royal mistress of the house. 

When the beautiful maiden arrived, the people were so 
charmed by her beauty and grace that they forgot all about 
their kind, gentle mistress Griselda,, and received her with 

- acclamation, declaring that she was indeed a suitable wife 

^ for Lord Walter. A great feast was prepared, and when all 
I 'were seated at table, the Marquis called Griselda to him, 

/asking her what she thought of his bride. She answered 

. that she had never seen a fairer maid, and prayed with all her 
heart that they might be happy. Then Lord Walter was at 
last satisfied, and, drawing her into his arms, told her who 
the maiden really was, explaining that all had been done to 
put her wifely submission to the test. Now he was satisfied, 
and would spend the rest of his life in making up to her for 
all she had suffered. 

How great, then, was Griselda's joy, not only in still 
possessing the love of her husband, but in having her dearly- 
loved children restored to her in full health and beauty. She 
clasped them in her arms, and then was taken to be clad once 
more in royal robes, and to have a coronet placed upon her 

• head. Her husband allowed her to have her old father to 
live in the castle, and the rest of her life was spent in the 
greatest happiness. 



30 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




THE SQUIRE'S TALE 



Once upon a time, there was a King of Tartary called 
Cambuscan, who had three children, two sons, Algarcif and 
Camballo, and a daughter, Canace. 

When Cambuscan had been reigning for twenty years, 
he made a great feast to celebrate his birthday, and while 
they were all seated at table, suddenly the door opened, and 
a knight rode into the hall. You may think it was rather 
strange for a horse to come indoors at all, but stranger still 
when I tell you that the horse was not a living one, but made 
entirely of brass, so all were much astonished when they saw 
it prancing into the banqueting room. The knight carried a 
mirror in his hand, wore a gold ring upon this thumb, and 
a sword at his side. He saluted the King and Queen and all 
the high-born guests, and addressed them thus: 

"My liege lord, the King of Arabia, sends me to salute 
you on this festal day, and to beg that you will accept the 
presents that I bring, namely: this brazen steed, the mirror 
in my hand, the ring upon my thumb, and the sword at my 
side. If you touch a spring, the horse is able to carry you 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



31 







PRINCESS CANACE AND THE FALCON 



32 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 

wherever you wish to go. The mirror also is a magic one, for 
any lady who looks into it can see whether her lover is true 
to her or not; and this my master sends to your daughter 
Canace, with the golden ring, which, when she wears it, will 
enable her to understand the language of the birds. This 
sword is for your sons, and it is able with one stroke to cut 
through anything whatever, even the thickest trunk of a tree ; 
and any one wounded with it will never be healed, except 
by the sword itself, for if a wound is stroked with the flat part 
of it, it will heal itself at once." 

When the knight had delivered his message, he rode out 
of the hall, and alighted from his steed; he was taken to a 
bedroom to change his dress, and then returned to join in 
the feast. The presents — that is, the mirror and the sword 
— were carefully put away, and the ring was taken to Canace 
as she sat at table, and she immediately put it upon her finger. 

The knight afterwards accompanied the King and his 
daughter to the ball-room, and the whole day was passed in 
fun and merriment. The festivities ended with a grand 
supper, and w^ere kept up till a late hour in the night. 

The next morning the Princess woke up very early, and 
her first thoughts were about the magic mirror and the won- 
derful ring which she possessed. She could not rest in bed, 
so got up, and went out in the fresh morning air, the sun be- 
ing only just risen. She wandered into the forest, and after 
a time sat down under a tree to rest. As she sat there she 
noticed in the branches above her head a falcon, who seemed 
to be very unhappy. She was beating herself with her wings, 
and pecking at her breast until she had wounded herself 
sadly, uttering bitter cries of woe the whole time. She was 
a very beautifully marked and shaped bird, and appeared to 
come from a foreign country. Princess Canace, who was 
wearing upon her finger the ring by which she could under- 
stand bird language, felt her heart wrung with pity, and im- 
plored the poor bird to tell her the cause of her grief. The 
falcon dropped from the tree into Canace's lap, and soon 
told her sad tale to the kind-hearted princess. 

"I was brought up in a comfortable nest on a rock," she 
said, "and was so tenderly cared for that I did not know what 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



33, 




THE FALCON AND THE HAWK 



34 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




STORIES FROM CHAUCER 35 

trouble meant. When I was grown up and able to fly, a 
hawk who lived near me began to court me, in order to win 
me for his bride. At first I would not listen to him, but he 
persuaded me so earnestly that at last I was won over, and 
consented to become his wife. I soon loved hini as much as 
even he desired. I felt I would rather die than see him sad; 
and what he wished me to do I agreed to without any demur. 
This lasted for a year or two, and then my happiness came 
to an end. He came to me one day, saying that he was 
obliged to go away for a time, and you can easily imagine how 
great was my distress. When we parted he seemed to be 
as sorrowful as I was, and I quite believed that he was in- 
deed grieving to leave me, and would soon come back again. 
After exchanging vows of eternal fidelity, we parted, but, alas ! 
he never returned, and I soon learned the real cause of his 
absence; he had ceased to love me, and transferred his affec- 
tion to a kite instead. Men, they, say, are always fickle, and 
cannot long remain constant to one. So this kite now is 
marned"""to liiiri who was to have been my husband, and I am 
left forlorn and despairing." And again the poor falcon be- 
gan to cry out, and swooned away in her distress. 

Canace felt the utmost sympathy for the unfortunate 
bird, and carried her tenderly home with her, where she 
nursed her with the greatest care, and had a cage placed for 
her by her own bed, which she covered with blue velvet, blue 
being an emblem of woman's constancy. 



38 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



THE FRANKLIN'S TALE. 

Once upon a time, on the coast of Brittany, there lived 
a knight called Arviragus, and his wife Dorigen, who were 
the happiest couple imaginable. The knight, however, when 
they had been married about a year, was obliged to go to 
England, to join in the war. Dorigen, his wife, was in the 
deepest grief at the separation from her beloved husband, and 
for a long time would do nothing but weep, and bewail her 
unhappy lot. Nevertheless, grief, however great, cannot 
continue for ever, and when she had received letters from 
her husband, cheerfully looking forward to their reunion be- 
fore long, she began to listen to the advice of her friends, and 
to dry her tears. They therefore entreated her to come out 
with them and enjoy the fresh air. The knight's castle was 
built by the sea, and Dorigen and her friends walked on the 
rocky shore ; but when she saw the dark, cruel rocks along 
the coast, she began to weep, fearing that her husband's ves- 
sel returning home might strike on one of them, and he would 
be drowned. 

Her friends, therefore, seeing that the sight of the sea 
only made her grief worse, took her into pretty gardens, 
where young people were amusing themselves with dancing 
and games. Among them was a young squire, called Aure- 
lius, who, although he was dancing and making merry, was 
very sad at heart, for he had loved the lady Dorigen for many 
a long year. Now, however, that her husband had been gone 
so long, he thought it was hardly likely that he would ever 
return, so when he saw Dorigen admiring his graceful danc- 
ing, he went up to her, and ventured to declare his love, en- 
treating her to become his wife. 

Dorigen, though she had no room in her heart for any 
other than her husband, yet in her own sorrow was not un- 
feeling for the sorrow of others, so, instead of refusing Aure- 
lius' offer absolutely, she put him off in this way. 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



37 




AURELIUS DECLARES HIS LOVE 



38 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




DORIGEN WITH HER FRIENDS BY THE SEA-SIDE 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 39 

"If," she said, "you will clear away all the rocks on the 
coast of Brittany, then I will marry you.'* 

Aurelius turned away sad at heart, for he believed the 
task imposed on him was an impossible one. Soon after this 
Arviragus returned, much to the joy of his loving wife. The 
castle was filled with feasting and revelry, and no one gave 
poor Aurelius a thought. He was so full of grief that he 
made himself quite ill, and his brother who lived with him 
could not bear to see him in this unhappy state. Remem- 
bering that, when a student at Orleans, he had heard a great 
deal about a wizard renowned for his magic arts, he per- 
suaded his brother to go and consult him. Aurelius was much 
comforted at the idea, and they both set out at once for Or- 
leans. On reaching their destination, they found the magi- 
cian, who entertained them most hospitably, and showed 
them all sorts of wonderful things. They saw that his power 
was very great, and entreated him to exercise it on Aurelius* 
behalf, and cause the rocks to disappear from the shore. The 
magician promised to do it, on condition that Aurelius paid 
him a thousand pounds. This was agreed to, and they all 
three journeyed back to Brittany, and went down to the sea- 
shore. The magician stretched out his wand, and spoke a 
few words of incantation, when immediately the rocks sank 
down, and only a smooth stretch of sand remained. 

Now indeed the miracle was accomplished, and Aurelius, 
in great joy, went to the lady Dorigen, telling her he had 
finished the task she had set him, and now claimed the ful- 
filment of her promise. My little readers must remember 
that the country was heathen at that time, and it was not 
uncommon for a man to give up his wife to another, if she 
chose to leave him and marry again, although now we should 
think such a thing very dreadful. Poor Dorigen, therefore, 
although her husband had returned to her, and she felt it 
would break her heart to leave him, yet acknowledged that 
she was bound to fulfil her promise, and did not know how 
to answer him. Aurelius left her for the time, and as she 
thought over the matter she became more and more un- 
happy. Her husband had gone out hunting, so she had no 
one to consult, and wept and bemoaned herself until he re- 



40 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




UxA Xv}Ow 



THE MAGICIAN STRETCHED FORTH HIS WAND OVER THE SEA 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



41 




DORIGEN WEPT AND BEMOANED HERSELF 



42 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




turned. He, finding her in such a state of grief, asked her 
what was the matter, and soon learned the whole truth. Then 
indeed was Arviragus unhappy also, thinking he must lose 
his dearly loved wife; for as she had promised, he said she 
must keep her word, and he would give her up to Aurelius. 
So Dorigen, going to Aurelius, meekly consented to be his 
wife, telling him how her husband had agreed to give her up 
rather than let her break her word. 

Now Aurelius had obtained his long-cherished desire, but 
when he saw Dorigen's grief he refused to accept her sacri- 
fice, and, releasing her from her promise, sent her back to 
Arviragus. Dorigen went down on her knees to thank him, 
and then joyfully returned to her husband, determining to 
make no such rash promises in future. 

Aurelius was left despairing; he could never win Dorigen 
now, and, besides, he owed a thousand pounds to the magi- 
cian, and would have to give up all he possessed in order 
to pay it. Even then he had not enough money by him, so 
went to the magician with half the sum, asking him if he 
would wait a year or two for the remainder. 

"Did I not keep my agreement with you?" said the 
wizard, "and have you not won the lady for your wife?" 

"Alas! no," said the poor squire, and went on to explain 
how, although her husband had consented to give Dorigen 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 43 

Up, he felt he could not take advantage of such generosity, 
so had sent her back again to Arviragus. 

Then the magician was much moved by the conduct of 
both the knight and the squire, and not willing to be outdone 
in kindness of heart, refused to take any money from Aure- 
lius at all. 

This is the end of my story, and you must decide for 
yourselves which was the most generous, the knight, the 
squire, or the magician. 



.44 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




THE PRINCESS MEETS WITH THE LORD CONSTABLE 



STORIEf. FROM CHAUCER 



45 



THE MAN OF LAWS TALE. 

The Sultan of Syria having heard of the great beauty of 
Constance, daughter of the Emperor of Rome, fell deeply in 
love w^ith her, and sent to demand her hand in marriage, 
promising to become a Christian, with all his household, if 
she were given to him. The Emperor consented, and sent 
his daughter to Syria, with a large sum of money as dowry, 
and an escort of lords and ladies. 

Now, the Sultan had a mother, who was not at all pleased 
at the marriage her son was about to make, but very angry 
at being obliged to change her religion. She therefore gath- 
ered together a council of courtiers, who were no better 
pleased at this enforced Christianity than she was herself, 




46 STORIES FROM CH/ UCER 

and asked if they would stand by her in all she proposed to 
do, as she hoped, if they would, to be able to get rid of the 
bride. They all promised to do what she should command, 
and she advised them to be baptized duly with the others, 
outwardly making no objection, and wait until she should 
give them further orders. 

Then this deceitful woman went to her son and asked 
him if she might have the honor of receiving these Christians 
at a feast in her own house. The Sultan willingly granted 
her request, and when the foreign vessel reached the shore, 
the Sultana accompanied her son to the landing-place to 
meet the Princess. She was received with due honor, and 
rode by the side of the old Sultana to her palace. There a 
banquet was prepared, and the Sultan and the members of 
Constance's train sat long over it. While they were revel- 
ing, the unfortunate Princess was seized by the wicked old 
Sultana's followers, put in a small open boat without oars or 
rudder, and pushed out to sea. 

She commended herself to the mercy of God, and was 
miraculously preserved in the little boat until it was driven 
ashore on the coast of Northumberland. It happened that 
the lord Constable of the castle was walking by the sea, and 
found her in her wretched plight. Being filled with pity 
for her, he took her home to his wife, Dame Hermegyld, who 
received her with much kindness. She stayed on with them 
at the castle, and made herself beloved by all for her kindness 
and gentleness. 

Although the Princess had gone through so many hard- 
ships, she had not lost her beauty, and a knight who lived in 
the neighborhood became very much in love with her. She, 
however, did not return his aflfection, and when she refused 
to have anything to do with him he was very angry, and 
made up his mind that she should die a shameful death. With 
this object he carried out a horrible plan. One night, when 
her husband was away, he came into Dame Hermegyld's 
sleeping-room and stabbed her to death ; then he went into 
Constance's room, and laid the knife, all covered with blood, 
beside her. Soon after this the Constable returned home, 
and found to his horror that his dearly loved wife had been 






^STOrT^ from CHAUCER 



m 




CONSTANCE FELL ON HER KNEES BEFORE THE KING 



) 

48 STORIES FROM CHAlCER 

cruelly murdered, and Constance was* aaHjs^^ of the crime. 
Alia, the King of the country, accompaniea the Constable 
to his castle, and when he saw Constance standing meek, 
innocent, and lovely before her accuser he was moved with 
compassion for her. The people also murmured among 
themselves, for they knew how kind, gentle, and good she 
was, so could not believe her guilty. The only one who spoke 
against her was the wicked knight, who had himself done 
the deed, and when the good King looked on his evil, malici- 
ous face, he began to be suspicious, and to inquire further 
into the matter. Poor Constance fell on her knees, crying to 
God to prove her innocence, upon which King Alia called for 
a Bible, and declared that the knight should swear upon it 
that he knew her to be guilty, before he could believe it. On 
the book being handed to him, the false knight kissed it, and 
vowed that Constance had committed the crime, upon which 
an invisible hand struck him, and he fell to the ground, both 
his eyes falling out. At the same time a voice was heard, 
saying : 

"Thou Hast maligned a daughter of the Holy Church, 
and how can heaven be silent?" 

The King and all the people were filled with astonish- 
ment at this wonderful answer to Constance's prayer, and she 
was at once pronounced innocent. The wicked knight was 
put to death, and soon after King Alia made Constance his 
wife. 

For a few months they were very happy, and then it hap- 
pened that the King was obliged to go on a journey to Scot- 
land. He put his beloved wife in the charge of the lord 
Constable, and while he was away a little son was born to 
them, who was baptized in the name of Maurice. 

Now Alla's mother, Dornegild, was jealous of the beauti- 
ful young Queen, and hated her for the influence she pos- 
sessed over her husband. So she determined to get rid of 
Constance in her husband's absence, if by any possibility she 
could manage it. 

Of course when little Maurice was born, the Constable 
wrote a letter to King Alia to inform him of the happy event, 
and before the messenger set out with the letter he called at 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



49 




ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN 



50 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




THE KING FINDS HIS LOST WIFE AND SON 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 51 

Dornegild's house to ask if she had any message to send her 
son. Dornegild persuaded the man to stay at her house for 
the night before he started, and while he slept she stole the 
letter, and wrote another in its place, saying that a son had 
been born in his absence, who was such a deformed, hideous 
creature that every one declared the mother must be a witch. 
The King was naturally much grieved to hear that his baby 
was so mis-shapen and ugly ; but as for believing that his dear 
Constance was a witch, that he laughed to scorn, and wrote 
back, thanking God for giving him a son at all, whether ugly 
or pretty, and charging the Constable to take every care of 
the child and his mother until his return. 

The messenger again stayed at Dornegild's house on his 
way home, and she, as before, stole the letter he was bear- 
ing, and when she had read it, substituted another in its place, 
ordering the Constable to put Queen Constance and her lit- 
tle son into the same open boat in which she had come to 
Northumberland, and send her out to sea. 

When the good Constable read this cruel order, he was 
filled with horror, but dared not disobey his master's com- 
mands; and although poor Constance could not understand 
what she had done to deserve such treatment, she meekly 
submitted to her husband's will. She entreated her old 
friend the Constable to kiss her little son for his father's sake, 
and, saying farewell to him and all her friends, got into the 
boat and was soon lost to sight. 

Not long afterwards the King returned, and naturally 
asked at once for his wife and child, whereupon the Constable 
was much afraid, and began to suspect that there was some 
mistake. He told the King what he had done according to 
his own order, and showed him the letter he had received. 
How great now was the King's grief and horror ; the messen- 
ger was sent for and questioned, and it was at last discovered 
that the King's own mother was guilty of this dreadful 
crime. She was put to death, but no punishment could 
remedy what she had done, and poor Alia was very sad and 
desolate without his much-loved wife and child. 

Constance, however, was not drowned, but she and her 
baby drifted here and there on the sea for about five years. 



52 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 




IN THE TAVERN 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 53 

How they lived I do not know, but perhaps the sea-gulls 
brought them food. You remember that her father was the 
Roman Emperor; and it happened that one of his senators, 
who was in command of a ship returning from fighting in a 
distant land, encountered Constance's little boat, and took 
her and her child on board. She did not, however, tell them 
who she was, or anything about herself; and they supposed 
that all she had gone through had taken away her memory. 
So the senator took Constance home with him, and received 
her into his household. 

Now King Alia, feeling very unhappy at the loss of his 
wife, made up his mind to go on a pilgrimage to Rome, and 
when it was known that so great a King proposed_ to visit the 
city, the Emperor ordered that he should be received with 
suitable honor. The senator therefore went to meet the 
King at the gates of the city, and entertained him at his own 
house with great ceremony, little Maurice being among his 
pages. When the King saw him, he asked who he was, the 
beautiful child being so like his mother that Alia could not 
help being struck with the resemblance. The senator then 
told the King how the child and his mother had been found, 
and at the same time said much in praise of the beauty and 
virtue of Constance. Alia at once thought that this might be 
his own dear w^ife, and asked if she might be sent for. When 
Constance appeared she fainted away, overcome at the sight 
of her husband, and he could not restrain his tears when he 
thought how cruelly she had been treated. Clasping her in 
his arms, he told her of the wicked deceit that had been prac- 
ticed on them, and how great had been his grief to lose her 
so. And when all had been explained, how happy they were 
to be again united, with such a sweet little son for their own. 

Constance then made herself known to her father, the 
Emperor, who was overjoyed to recover his long-lost daugh- 
ter. The child Maurice was appointed the Emperor's heir. 
Constance and Alia went back to England, and lived happily 
for a year. Then Alia died, and Constance, all her adven- 
tures over, went back to Rome, to her father and son, and 
lived quietly and happily till her death. 



54 STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



THE PARDONER'S TALE. 

There were once three young men, who, as they sat 
gambHng one evening in a tavern, heard a bell tolling, and 
on looking out of the window, saw a dead man being carried 
to his grave. 

"Who is this man?" they asked, and were told it was one 
who had sat drinking like themselves in a tavern, when he 
was suddenly struck down by Death, an old thief who often 
seized people unawares in this way. Now these three roys- 
terers had drunk a good deal of wine, so were full of false 




courage, and they swore with a mighty oath that they would 
go and look for Death, and when they found him put an end 
to him. They set out from the town in a jovial manner, and 
when they had gone a short distance, met an old man, who 
meekly gave them God-speed. The rudest of the three spoke 
jeeringly to the poor old fellow, asking what he meant by liv- 
ing so long. He answered that although he was ready to 
die, yet Death did not come to seek him, whereupon the 
young men refused to let him go until he told them where 
this Death whom he spoke of was to be found. 

"Go on, sirs," said the aged man, "and you will find Death 
in that little grove under an oak." 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



55 




Accordingly they went on to the appointed place, and 
there found, not Death, as they expected, but a jar full of 
golden florins. They were so delighted at finding such a 
treasure that they forgot all about the person they were look- 
ing for, and all sat down to decide what they would do with 
the money. They made up their minds that it would not do 
to carry so much gold into the town by daylight, or some 
one might claim it and oblige them to give it up, so agreed 
to watch by it until nightfall, one returning to the town to 
buy some food and wine, while the other two remained tQ 
guard the money. As soon as their companion had started, 
the two left behind began to plan how they might deprive 
him of his share, and have the whole booty for themselves, 
and determined to set upon him when he returned, stab him 
to death, and, after hiding his body in the wood, make off 
with the gold. 



56 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



No doubt you are feeling very sorry for the poor fellow 
who was being so treacherously plotted against by his com- 
panions, but he himself deserved no pity, for on his way into 
the town the thought struck him that if he could only do away 
with his two friends he would have all the money, and be 
rich for the rest of his life. He went to a chemist's shop, 
and obtained some poison, which he mixed with the wine he 
bought, taking care to leave one bottle untouched for himself. 

On returning to his companions, they fell upon him un- 
awares, as they had arranged, and stabbed him to the heart. 
Then they fell to upon the provisions he had brought, in- 
tending, when they were refreshed, to bury the body of their 
comrade, but as soon as they drank the poisoned wine, they 
both fell dead upon the spot. So, as the old man had told 
them, they met with Death under the oak. Death comes in 
many strange shapes, and they did not recognize him in a 
jar of treasure. The love of money, indeed, in their case, 
proved the root of all evil. 




STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



57 




THE PRIEST'S TALE. 



There was once a poor widow who lived in a village, 
and earned an humble living for herself and two daughters by 
keeping a few pigs, sheep, and poultry. She had a yard 
fenced round with a hedge of dry sticks, where lived a cock 
called Chanticleer, and his seven plump wives. Chanticleer 
was a beautiful bird, with feathers like gold and a brilliant 
red comb. Among his wives the one he loved best was Part- 
let, the prettiest ben of them all, and he always gave her the 
fattest worms and the daintiest morsels he found. 

Well, one night when Chanticleer was roosting on his 
comfortable perch, he had a dreadful dream, and woke up 
screaming out for fright. 

"What can be the matter with you?" cried Partlet, 
alarmed also. "For shame to wake us all up in this wiay!'* 

Then he told her that he was terrified by what he had 
seen in his sleep. He thought he was scratching about in the 
yard as usual, when suddenly he saw an animal something 
like a dog, with a red coat, long, bushy tail, and eyes like 
fire. He quite expected to be eaten up by this fearful beast 
(who was a fox, as no doubt you will guess), and cried out 
in terror, when he awoke, and it was only a dream. Never- 



68 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



theless, he could not help feeling that it was an evil omen, 
and he feared something was going to happen to him. 

Partlet, however, laughed at her husband, saying he must 
have eaten something that disagreed with him, and advising 
him next day to take some medicinal herbs. *'As for dreams," 
she said, "no sensible person would take any notice of them." 

Chanticleer did not agree with her, and gave many his- 
torical instances of dreams being sent for a distinct purpose, 
mentioning Joseph's dreams and Pharaoh's, among others, 
and he related two stories which are told by Cicero, about 
dreams coming true. However, Partlet refused to be con- 
vinced, until at last Chanticleer began to think he must be 
mistaken, and when the sun rose he jumped off his perch, 
with his wives, and went scratching round the yard as usual. 

Now hidden among some big leaves was a fox, who had 
come there to carry off poor Chanticleer to make a meal for 
his wife and cubs; and as the cock went clucking about, 
followed by his family, he came in time quite close to 
where the sly animal lay hidden, and suddenly, to his 







STORIES FROM CHAUCER 



59 



horror, caught the gaze of those piercing eyes fixed on him. 
Chanticleer was in a great state of fear, and was about to run 
away, when the fox spoke kindly to him, saying that he had 
come there to hear him sing, for he had heard so much about 
his beautiful, clear voice. The fox flattered Chanticleer to 
such an extent that the unfortunate bird forgot his terror, 
and prepared to crow, in order to gratify his soft-tongued 
admirer. He stood on tip-toe, stretching his long neck to the 
fullest extent, and closing his eyes, began to crow at the top 



^v 




r •-% 

' ters came running out of the house to see what was the mat- 
of his voice ; but directly his eyes were shut, the cunning fox 
sprang upon him, seized him by the throat, and rushed away 
with him to his den. 

Now when the hens saw what had happened they made 
such a commotion in the yard that the widow and her daugh- 
ter. To their horror they saw the wicked fox making off 
across the fields with poor Chanticleer in his mouth, and be- 



60 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 







A COMMOTION IN THE FARM YARD 



STORIES FROM CHAUCER 61 

gan to run after him, being joined by the farm servants and 
some men working on the road, all screaming with all their 
might. 

When Chanticleer heard it he said to the fox, "Why don't 
you laugh at them, and tell them such a noise is quite use- 
less? You can run faster than they, and by the time they 
get to the wood, you will be safe in your den, and I shall be 
eaten up." 

The fox opened his mouth to do what the clever bird 
advised, and in doing so of course let fall Chanticleer, who 
flew off, and got high up on a tree, out of his enemy's way. 
Although the fox tried to persuade him to come down, the 
cock was not so silly as to be taken in by flattery a second 
time, but instead of paying any more attention to Reynard, 
he flew home again to his wives. 

After this the widow had a stone wall put round the yard, 
so that the fox could not get among the poultry again, and 
Chanticleer lived happily with his seven wives to a good old 
age, amusing the little chickens, on many a wet afternoon, by 
the wonderful story of his escape from the fox. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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